Vixen 03 Part 22

"Regrettably, I must be in Nairobi for a meeting with the Kenya Educational Council tomorrow afternoon."

"I hope your quarters are satisfactory. We're a little off the beaten track for a Hilton Hotel franchise."

"I must admit, Mr. Lusana's hospitality is far more than I bargained for."

Daggat looked down at her. Tonight was the first time he had actually seen Felicia Collins up close. Celebrity, singer with three gold records, actress with two Emmys and an Oscar for a difficult role as a black suffragette in the motion picture Road of Poppies. She was every bit as ravishing as she appeared on screen.

Felicia stood cool and poised in green crepe de chine evening pajamas. The small strapless top tied at the waist and the matching pants gave a diaphanous hint of her shapely legs. She wore her hair in a chic short African cut.

"Hiram is on the threshold of greatness, you know."

He smiled at her high-toned statement. "I imagine the same might have been said once of Attila the Hun."

"I can easily see why Washington correspondents crowd your press conferences, Congressman." Her hand remained on his arm. "Your tongue stabs."

"I believe they refer to it as 'Daggat's shaft.' "

"The better to screw the white establishment with, perhaps?"

He took her hand and exerted an increasing pressure until there was a tiny widening of her huge mahogany eyes. "Tell me, Ms. Collins, what brings a beautiful and renowned black entertainer to the jungle?"

"The same thing that brings the black enfant terrible of the United States Congress," she countered. "To help a man who is fighting to advance our race."

"I'm more inclined to believe Hiram Lusana is fighting to advance his private bank account."

Felicia smiled derisively. "You disappoint me, Congressman. If you'd

bothered to do your homework, you'd know that is simply not true."

Daggat stiffened. The gauntlet had been thrown.

He released her hand and moved until his face was only a few inches from hers. "With half the world watching the African nations, waiting and wondering when they are going to get their circus act together and remove the last bastion of white supremacy, who should appear like a messiah from the wilderness, offering a proverb for every occasion, but none other than your friendly international drug smuggler Hiram Lusana. Like a revelation in the night, he unloads his thriving operation and takes up the cause of the poor foul-smelling black rabble of South Africa.

"Reinforced now by gullible black opinion and touted by a world press hungry for a personality, any personality, handsome Hiram suddenly finds his smiling face on the covers of no fewer than fourteen magazines with a combined circulation of over sixty million. Thus the sun shines down from heaven and Hiram Lusana is adored by Bible beaters everywhere for his devout piety; foreign state departments vie for his presence at parties; he demands and receives fabulous fees on the lecture circuit; and suckers like you, Ms. Collins, from the entertainment world, kiss his a.s.s and scratch for a percentage of the box-office limelight."

Anger flared in Felicia's lovely features. "You're being deliberately offensive."

"Nakedly honest, perhaps." Daggat paused and enjoyed Felicia's uneasiness for a moment. "And what do you think will happen if Lusana should win his war and the white racist government in South Africa surrenders? Will he, like Cincinnatus, renounce his generalship and return to the plow? Not likely. There is little doubt in my mind that he'll proclaim himself president and launch a virtual dictatorship. Then, with the enormous resources of Africa's most advanced country in his pocket, he'll shift the grand crusade into reverse and either by force or by subterfuge gobble up the weaker black nations."

"You're blind," she said harshly. "Hiram guides his life by high morals. I find it unthinkable that he would ever consider selling out his ideals for personal gain."

Felicia did not see the caution in Daggat's eyes. "I can prove it, Ms. Collins, and all it will cost you-financially, that is-if you lose is one Yankee dollar."

"You're fishing in a barren lake, Congressman. You obviously do not know the general."

"Bet me."

She thought a moment and then looked up. "You're on."

Daggat bowed gallantly and escorted her to where Lusana was talking tactics with an officer of the Mozambique Army. Lusana broke off his conversation at their approach and greeted them. "Ah, my two fellow Americans. I see you've met."

"May I talk with you and Ms. Collins alone for a moment, General?" asked Daggat.

"Why, yes, of course."

Lusana excused himself from the Army officer and led the way into a small study comfortably furnished in an Afro-modern motif.

"Very nice," said Daggat.

"My favorite style of decor." Lusana motioned them to sit down. "And why not? Is it not based on our ancestral native designs?"

"Personally, I prefer the new Egyptian creations," said an indifferent Daggat.

"What is it you wish to discuss?" asked Lusana.

Daggat came straight to the point. "If I may be frank, General, the only reason you put on this dog and pony show tonight was in the hope of conning me into exerting my influence with the House Foreign Affairs Committee on behalf of the AAR. Agreed?"

Lusana could not conceal a cornered look, but he remembered to be courteous. "My apologies, Congressman. I did not mean to be so obvious. Yes, I did hope to persuade you to lend your support to our cause. But a con job? No way. I am not fool enough to attempt to stuff cotton in the ears of a man with your reputation for shrewdness."

"So much for preliminaries. What's in it for me?"

Lusana stared at Daggat with fascination. Such directness was hardly what he'd expected. His plans called for a more circuitous seduction. Now he was caught off guard. An out-and-out request for graft left him stunned. He decided to play coy in order to gain time to think.

"I miss your point, Congressman."

"No big deal, really. If you want me on your team, it's going to cost you."

"I still don't understand."

"Cut the jive, General. You and I came from the same gutter. We haven't shoved aside poverty and discrimination to get where we are without picking up any smarts along the way."

Lusana turned away and slowly, meticulously lit a cigarette. "Do you wish me to open the negotiations with an offer for your services?"

"That won't be necessary. I already have a... ah ... figure in mind."

"Please name it."

A smile lifted the corners of Daggat's lips. "Ms. Collins."

Lusana looked up, puzzled. "And a very comely figure at that. But I fail to see what she-"

"You give me Felicia Collins and I'll see to it my committee votes favorably on funding an arms program for your revolution."

Felicia leaped to her feet, her mahogany eyes ablaze. "I don't believe this."

"Consider it as a small sacrifice on behalf of a n.o.ble crusade," said Daggat sarcastically.

"Hiram, for G.o.d's sake," she snapped, "tell this turkey to pack up and ship out."